


these lights reveal me things that turn me on

by confession



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Canon Compliant, Implied (Accidental) Time Travel, M/M, the good ol' enlistment blues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 18:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18393917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confession/pseuds/confession
Summary: Youngjae comes home to a different Himchan.Definitely nothisHimchan.





	these lights reveal me things that turn me on

**Author's Note:**

> for C.
> 
> wrote this on a whim after she prompted me with "youngjae getting ntr’d from present day himchan by a 34-year old himchan from the future". played a bit with ages because i figured post-conscription Himchan/pre-conscription Himchan would work out better.
> 
> anyway enjoy, i miss these two lads

“I’m home”, Youngjae casually announces as he enters the apartment, swiftly slipping out of his shoes and into the hall. It’s a habit, by now, adopted by the three of them, to announce their presence loudly before stepping into the apartment. It avoids awkward surprises, which are often bound to happen when three men in their twenties share a nice apartment, and, sometimes, the same bed.

(or, well, when _two of them_ occasionally share the same bed. Jongup would rather stay out of it, not keen on compromising the frail balance they found in each other when they decided living together as three would be a good idea)

He sniffs the air, hoping someone would be in the kitchen (it’s been a long day); he could really go for some japchae, right now.

What greets him, instead, is a pair of arms wrapping around his waist; under the dim light, at first Youngjae thinks it’s Jongup, the strength holding him in place vaguely familiar until Himchan’s musky scent fills his nostrils and a pair of lips hungrily kisses his neck.

“H-hyung?”, he asks, taken aback by the sudden act; Himchan was never the type to take the initiative, no matter how many times Youngjae had _wanted_ him to.

“Hey”, the elder greets him against his neck, voice raspy and tired. He pulls Youngjae closer, strong arms keeping him steady, moving from his neck to his jaw and nipping at the sensitive skin there. “I missed you.”

Youngjae chuckles, ticklish but not pushing Himchan away. “Hey, I was only gone for a few hours.”

“Didn’t catch you in the morning”, Himchan replies simply, hands pressing against the younger’s sides, frantically searching for the hem of his shirt. “It’s been too long.”

_No it hasn’t_ , Youngjae wants to retort, but he stops himself before he can ruin that moment. Running his mouth had stopped moments like that before, and despite the way Himchan was acting being very _weird_ compared to what they had established over the time they’ve lived together, it was the good kind of weird that Youngjae was willing to put up with, for that night.

He wraps his arms around the elder’s neck, moving his head down to capture Himchan’s lips with his in a searing kiss. They know each other well, what they like and dislike in moments like these, yet Youngjae can’t help but feel there’s something off with Himchan, not limited to his strange behavior.

His hands cross over the nape of Himchan’s neck, the texture of his buzzcut tickling the tips of his fingers—

_Buzzcut._

Youngjae pauses, letting out a small surprised gasp when Himchan softly bites at his lower lip, swiping his tongue over the skin before deepening their kiss. He runs his fingers over the back of the elder’s head, the feeling too unfamiliar; why had Himchan cut off his hair? He had a few months left before enlisting, and he did claim to cherish his long hair too much to cut it all off just like that.

Come to think of it, his arms did feel bulkier.

He breaks the kiss apart, feeling Himchan’s hands snake under his shirt. “Have you been working out?”, he asks, frowning when Himchan snorts against his lips before chasing them again, pressing them together in a long peck before pulling away to answer his question.

“I guess? ‘S not like I had the choice not to”, comes Himchan’s playful answer as he slowly pulls Youngjae towards the younger’s bedroom.

Youngjae frowns at the answer, allowing Himchan to pull him along to get a better look at his face. He looks… different, he realizes, although not unrecognizable. His features are sharper – more mature, in a way, his face not as full as what Youngjae had gotten used to but also not back to thin and sharp like in Himchan’s excessive dieting days. The buzzcut makes a difference in Youngjae’s perception, he realizes, for all the wrong reasons.

It’s too much of a reminder of what’s to come.

Himchan looks down at him, his intense look quickly being replaced for a fond one when he notices the frown. “I know you don’t really like it”, he says, shrugging and glancing up casually. “But hey, I can finally grow it out again now.”

“What—“, Youngjae wants to ask him, _what do you mean_ , butiHimchans Himchan busies himself with elbowing his bedroom door open, pulling Youngjae inside. He looks down, notices the yet to be unmade bag beside his bed, hears Himchan laugh sheepishly as his gaze follows Youngjae’s.

“Sorry I left it there. Thought you’d be here when I got home.”

He lets Himchan pull him further into the room, feels the back of his knees knock against his bed, not entirely unresponsive to the elder’s advances, but still trying to piece things together. It feels good, he thinks as Himchan lays him down slowly, as he feels the elder’s weight on him, pushing a knee between his legs to better accommodate himself there, trailing kisses down his jaw, his neck, pulling his shirt out of the way to swipe his tongue against his collarbone, to bit down on his shoulder. It’s familiar; Himchan knows him well enough, although this one kisses him like he hadn’t done it in a long time, drinking him in like a parched man after a drought. It’s overwhelming, how eager Himchan seems to be to have him like this when Youngjae is pretty sure they’d been in the same predicament not more than three, four days ago.

It’s too much; Himchan bites down again at his neck, licks over the mark almost apologetically when Youngjae’s moan comes out louder than intended, presses his hips down against his when his body jerks up in surprise at the sudden pain.

This is _good_ , Youngjae knows, this is all he had ever wanted.

But this is _not his Himchan_.

His Himchan never took the initiative like this; his Himchan would only go with the flow whenever Youngjae felt like it, never asking the younger for what he knew they both wanted. His Himchan had insisted on keeping it casual, no strings attached, insisted on keeping a certain distance even at their most intimate moments, never leaving any marks to remind them of what had just transpired, never biting down at Youngjae’s skin no matter how much he’d beg for it.

His Himchan liked Youngjae alright, but he never liked Youngjae any more than as a friend.

A friend he’d occasionally fuck, but a friend all the same.

That realization makes him still; Himchan stops, too, looking down at Youngjae with nothing but concern painting his features.

“Is everything okay? Did I hurt you?”

Youngjae blinks up at him, once, twice, eyes unfocused at first then zeroing in on the crease in Himchan’s brow, feeling his hands tremble slightly at his sides. The transparency of Himchan’s concern is dizzying and, although not entirely new to Youngjae, it takes on a whole new meaning when the elder looks at him like he’s something precious he cherishes and misses every day.

This is not his Himchan and it shows.

(and he was _fine_ with Himchan not wanting to turn things serious, he swears he was; it’s only when he gets a glimpse of how things could be if Himchan cared about whatever it was that they had as much as Youngjae cared that it starts to hurt

 

Himchan had always treated him well—sometimes way better than Youngjae thought he deserved for all the trouble he gave him. looking at him like that— _feeling_ that much for him like that, _that_ was new

 

and somewhat scary, Youngjae concludes)

He doesn’t register how much time passes as they look at each other – Himchan full of concern, Youngjae like a deer caught in the headlights –, until Youngjae blinks a last time, feels Himchan’s trembling hand carefully brush his fringe away from his face.

“It’s nothing”, he finds his voice at last, “it didn’t hurt, it’s fine.” He grabs at Himchan’s hand, puts it over his cheek, drags it over his neck down to his chest, where his heart thumps frantically against his ribcage. “You should do it again”, he blurts out, entwining their fingers over his chest. He feels lighter once he admits it out loud, then confident enough to add, despite feeling his entire face burn, “you should _really_ do it again.”

Himchan blinks, as well, seemingly surprised by his answer. A small smile plays in his lips before he leans down again, slots his mouth against Youngjae’s in a slow, sensuous kiss. “I’ll do it as many times as you want”, he says as he pulls away, tightening his hold on Youngjae’s hand. “I’ll do anything you want tonight.” He noses down the younger’s neck and places a kiss over his pulse point. “God, I missed you so much, Youngjae.”

He holds back from frowning, this time; this is not his Himchan, this is not his reality. He’s had lucid dreams like these before, but never as vivid; Himchan sinking his teeth on his shoulder feels all too real, sparks all too much reaction from his body to be just a dream.

Still, it’s easy to lose himself in the moment; he sees no reason not to, not when it feels this good, not when this Himchan is so good to him he could cry and finally let out the words he had been holding back for so long—

But he doesn’t; not even to who he assumes is _dream Himchan_ , not even to himself, out loud.

For now, he’ll content himself with what this Himchan can offer him; it’s more than what he could ever bargain for, anyway.

 

 

 

Hours later, when he feels his eyes heavy with sleep and exhaustion, Youngjae dares a look at his bedside table. Himchan, plastered to his back and holding on to him like _his Himchan_ would hardly ever do, mutters something in a feeble complain when he shuffles to grab at his phone, looking intently at the clock, then down at the date.

It’s not the hour, or the day that worry him, until he takes a look at the year registered in his phone.

The year is 2021.

Youngjae puts away his phone, placing a hand over Himchan’s. It’s too dark to see much of the room or of himself, but the soreness of his body is very telling of how real everything was—or felt.

He closes his eyes, and settles for letting this dream end.

 

 

 

Youngjae wakes up to an empty bed and a knock to his door.

“Youngjae-ya?”, Himchan’s voice calls from the other side when Youngjae says nothing. “Are you awake? You’ve got practice in a couple hours, don’t forget that.”

It’s still dark inside his room, but Youngjae can tell it’s daytime by the light that seeps from the gap between the curtains. He pats the empty side of his bed once more to make sure before he sits up and feels the soreness from the previous night creep up his body. He considers lying down once again, but he knows better than to give in.

“C’mon in”, he calls for Himchan, groaning in discomfort. “I’m awake now.”

He realizes belatedly that he’s naked, and probably looks as much of a mess as he feels like a mess.

The door clicks open, and Youngjae squints past the light to make out Himchan’s features. His hair is short, like he had been keeping it the past few months, but looks nowhere near a buzzcut, and his face still retains the healthy roundness of someone who eats well and doesn’t worry too much about exercising anymore.

Just to make sure, Youngjae reaches for his phone, checks the clock, the date, the year.

It’s 2019.

“You look like a mess”, the elder comments casually as he goes for the curtains and opens them. Youngjae scowls at the clarity, fighting the urge to hide his face back into his pillows until he notices the complete chaos going on in his bed.

_Huh. What a wild dream_.

“Looks like you had a good time yesterday”, Himchan says as he takes a good look at the younger; Youngjae doesn’t quite register what he means until he looks down on himself and sees them.

Hickeys. There are hickeys everywhere. And a prominent bite mark to his side.

_What the hell?_

“Whoever it was, they made quite a number on you”, the elder continues, a little too dry to sound playful. Almost as if he wasn’t pleased at what he’s seeing. “You should probably wear something with a high collar today.”

Youngjae grabs his phone again, unlocks it, opens the frontal camera. There are marks all over his neck and collarbones; he’s not sure if what freaks him out is their existence or that he _remembers dream Himchan making every one of them_. He looks up at (present) Himchan, frowning. “Did you see me get back home yesterday?”

“No”, Himchan shrugs. “I got home pretty late and your door was already closed, so I figured you were sleeping.”

Youngjae hums, skeptical. “Did you see anyone leaving this morning?”

Himchan sends him a funny look. “Did you bring your booty call over? I thought we had a rule against that—”

“I didn’t”, Youngjae says defensively. “I mean, I think I didn’t? I don’t… things didn’t make much sense, last night.”

The elder raises an eyebrow, looking down at Youngjae with a mix of concern and amusement. “Should I be worried or congratulate you?”

Youngjae decides to ignore him, pushing himself out of bed. The strain is not too different than the other nights he spends with (present) Himchan, although the hickeys are something a bit new to him. He’s aware that Himchan is giving him a long once-over, but he also chooses to ignore that. “Hey, when are you enlisting again?”

Himchan blinks at him, then scoffs at the audacity. “Way to rain on my parade”, he grumbles, “I didn’t need to be reminded of that.”

The younger shrugs. “So, when?”

“Are you that eager to get rid of me?”

Youngjae turns his back at him, rummaging through his wardrobe for clean clothes. “Just curious.”

Himchan sounds unconvinced. “If you say so. In about two or three months, I guess? I sort of refused to memorize the exact date, but that’s for the best.”HimchHimchan sondsd

“I see”, the younger hums, throwing on some sweatpants before grabbing at a bundle of nice clothes. He turns to Himchan, returns his unsettling stare with one of his own. “I had a dream where you had a buzzcut”, he says, trying to sound casual; the slight trembling in his voice goes unnoticed by Himchan. “Looked good on you.”

 

He brushes past the elder and leaves, making his way to the bathroom.


End file.
